


The Heart Wants What it Wants

by PestyBandit



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Drug Dealing, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:59:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3714139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PestyBandit/pseuds/PestyBandit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of Cynthia's life she has been a good, moral person trying her hardest to make her family proud. Being taken under the wing of Gustavo Fring was supposed to mean easy sailings but the arrival of new enemies changes her life completely. What happens when her mentor warns her to stay away from a man that could kill her? What happens when that man is her one true love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heart Wants What it Wants

_I'm not a pretty girl._

_I've been told that I'm cute but that doesn't get you much at 25 years old._

_I'm not a particularly smart girl either._

_I have common sense and have above average retention skills but that's really it._

_I'm not good at trivia games and I'm not really creative._

_What I'm trying to get at is that I'm a bad storyteller and an even worse liar. The only thing I pride myself in is having impeccable memory that never, ever gets dusty or lost in time. I don't color in things I know with preferred details. What I'm about to tell you is the full truth and the whole truth to the best of my knowledge. What I'm about to tell you is everything I know._

 

I had been working at Los Pollos Hermanos for over five years when I was promoted to manager of the Albuquerque branch. I remember it like yesterday when Mr. Fring had called me in two hours before the restaurant opened. I was so nervous—I thought I'd be fired—but what actually happened was far better than I could have expected. Mr. Fring, he gave me a nametag with my name that said "Manager." I swear I started to cry.

That man…

That man saw something in me I never saw in myself.

I will always remember him as the man that gave me the confidence to be better than I ever thought I could be.

The man on the news isn't the real Mr. Fring.

There's no way I believe that.

 

On the morning I first came into contact with the Salamanca Twins it was a Wednesday. I remember that because Mr. Fring had been teaching me how to clean the Lemonade Machine and he only over went over cleaning appliances on Wednesday—he had a schedule for everything. It was a normal day until they walked in.

"…give the compressor time for the needle to enter the green," I repeated the steps that I drilled into myself, expecting some sort of response from Mr. Fring. I was surprised when I didn't get one.

Mr. Fring had a specific formula to critiquing things. First he said something pleasant, went on to say how great the specific employee was and how wonderful it was to have them on board, then ask them how they went about completing a certain task, then explaining his way of doing it and how his way would save more time and energy. The employee would then repeat everything he had just said to ensure that he understood it. Once the employee did understand what Mr. Fring was saying he would compliment them again. He would be on his way to the next person and always, always he would work his way back to make sure everything was in order…but that day he was off.

If he had been working with anyone else they wouldn't notice but I noticed, "Sir?"

"Everything sounds wonderful, Cynthia," he nodded then walked back to the kitchen which was strange because he had just come from the kitchen and his next course should have been checking out the customers to see if they were okay. I knew something was off.

I didn't bother to ask him though.

Instead I went back to ordinary business.

But business wasn't back to being ordinary.

Sitting at the closest booth to the door on one side sat the two individuals I now know to be Marco and Leonel Salamanca. I remember when I first saw them my blood ran cold. They had this icy stare that gazed directly in my direction though I knew they weren't looking at me. They were dressed too professionally to be there for a lunch and besides that they didn't order anything. For the whole six hours they sat in that booth they did not make a move. I could tell they were searching for something—someone—but I had no idea then what or whom they could possibly want.

All I knew was that I wanted them to leave but I was too mystified to say a thing.

_It was a huge mistake._

_The biggest mistake of my life._


End file.
